


Always You

by Wxlves



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Multi, NO KOA SPOILERS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 08:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16636409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wxlves/pseuds/Wxlves
Summary: Lysandra learns a little bit about Aedion's past relationship with the Bane CommanderI have a hc that the Bane Commander Aedion canonically was in a relationship with is Kyllian (a Bane commander mentioned throughout KOA.) If you haven't read KOA, don't worry, it's spoiler-free(Erhm, I can't do titles. Sorry)





	Always You

Lysandra glanced around the war tent, hands clasped together and fidgeting with impatience. The young warrior had promised Aedion would be around soon, and it was no urgent matter, but Lysandra still felt uncomfortable waiting for him in his own tent. 

 

Curious, she glanced around at the few personal items in the tent. They were all small and light, easy to pack in with everything else when the war camp uprooted itself and moved. Her pale green eyes landed on a small stack of what looked like drawings, and she gave in to her piqued curiosity. Wondering if Aedion had made them, she picked them up, shuffling through and taking care to not smudge the dark charcoal some had been done in. Many were simple, bold-lined sketches, though the talent in the hand that had drawn them was still evident. While there were dozens of drawings, many small, there was an unusual amount of them that looked as though they’d been done of, or by, a loved one. One, for unknown reasons, caught her attention. It was two hands, clasped together the way lovers held hands, but something in the lines and planes made both look masculine, intentionally or not. Several others, of Aedion, also caught her eye, the way they seemed sketched at a moment when he’d been glancing away, unaware of the artist’s attention. 

 

At that moment the tent flap rustled and Aedion’s huge form ducked into the tent. Lysandra jumped, some of the drawings fluttering to the floor. She quickly apologized and bent to pick them up. “I’m sorry Aedion, I shouldn’t have looked at these.”

 

Aedion just shook his head. “It’s okay. I actually haven’t looked at them in a while, I’d like to now.” He took them from Lysandra’s slender fingers and sat down on his bedroll, spreading the drawings before him. Lysandra sat down next to him, peering at them as they were laid out so each was visible.  

 

“I’m guessing you didn’t do these,” Lysandra joked, “unless you’re very fond of drawing yourself.” 

 

“Ah well,” Aedion shrugged, “what can I say? I enjoy looking at my own face, why not draw it?” Lysandra rolled her eyes, leaning into him to shove him with her shoulder. 

 

“That’s very funny, except that you  _ would. _ Who did these then, if you don’t mind me asking?” It was clearly an ex lover, the clasped hands and sheer number of half-sketches of Aedion suggested that. 

 

Aedion pointed to one in particular, saying, “I think you can figure it out.” 

 

The drawing he gestured to was done in dark graphite, not charcoal as many others were, and had the rough lines of a sketch, not a finished drawing. It showed two males, one sitting up on what looked like blankets or a bedroll, naked. The other was astride his lap, also naked, though no explicit body parts had been drawn in. The second male had his fingers tangled in the dark hair of the first, and their foreheads rested against each other’s. The male on top was evidently Aedion. His hair was very lightly shaded, indicating a blond or silver color, and the slope of his shoulders matched Aedion’s exactly, drawn by a skilled hand that knew them well. 

 

The male on the bottom evidently had dark hair, and judging by the shading, very dark skin too. Realization dawned on Lysandra as she thought back to what Aedion has told her only weeks ago, (it felt like eons) that as a general, he and a commander of his had been involved. 

 

“Kyllian.” 

 

Aedion gave her a confirming nod. 

 

Still a commander, the highest esteemed one. His input was ranked directly below Aedion’s,  and should Aedion die, he would likely become General. 

 

It was easy to see how the commander had caught Aedion’s eye, his skill on the battlefield aside. He had long, dark hair, pulled back into dozens of tiny braids which he all rounded up into one thick ponytail when he needed it back from his face. His skin was a beautiful dark shade, lighter only than his eyes which were deep black pools, glimmering with humor. He was quick witted and quick to laugh, and when he smiled his teeth flashed brilliantly white. The commander had high cheekbones and a strong, aquiline nose, the only features he claimed from an Adarlanian father. His dark eyes and skin he’d inherited from his mother, who hailed from a continent far south of Erilea. 

 

Aedion was eyeing the drawing with a fond look in his eye. “One thing I remember… he has two small tattoos, almost completely hidden. The indigo colored ink doesn’t stand out against his skin and they’re  on his neck, about an inch behind each ear, hidden by his hair most of the time. Each is small, too. One is the symbol for the sun god in his mother’s culture, the other the moon god.” Lysandra thought of Deanna and Mala with a shudder. Mala was kind but Deanna was cruel and cold, caring nothing for humans. 

 

Aedion saw this and seemed to understand what her revulsion was. “In their culture, the sun and moon are twins. They love each other but, as siblings do, always fight. Because of this their father, the god of Change (changing seasons, changing days) made them always work opposite each other.” 

 

“I like that narrative better than our own,” Lysandra sighed. 

 

Aedion nodded grimly. “So do I.”

 

“I think it’s much nicer.” 

 

“I agree.” 

 

“It’s so interesting, the differences between cultures.”

 

“Yes, it is.”

 

Aedion’s tone had become slightly absent as he agreed with her, so Lysandra took advantage of his distraction. 

 

“You really loved him.” 

 

“Yes, I did.” Aedion’s head shot up at his own words, and he narrowed his eyes at Lysandra in mock anger. “You made me say that.”

 

Lysandra snorted. “Please, Aedion. If you hadn’t loved him you wouldn’t have said you did, distracted or no. I know you wouldn’t have admitted it on your own.” 

 

Aedion grew quiet for a moment as he gathered the drawings back together and leaned over to place them where they belonged. “He was the first male who I realized I really liked, the same way I like women. Before that, with men, I had only shared their bed, and I was able to pretend it was just for pleasure. After all, in the army, you’re surrounded by men with no women in sight for months at a time. The Bane is the just the same. I think, even when I was with him and even though I loved him, a part of me was always scared to admit it was more than just pleasure. Even if that part of me was tiny, it was still there and he knew it. We ended things mutually with no bad blood.” 

 

“What about bad blood?” 

 

Lysandra grinned at the figure who stood in the entrance to the tent, his feet so silent even Aedion’s Fae ears hadn’t heard him. “Speak of the devil, Kyllian. We were just talking about you.” 

 

Aedion’s eyes widened in panic, even as Kyllian winked and said, “all bad things, I hope.” 

 

Lysandra bade the commander to stand still for a moment. He shot Aedion a confused look but the general-prince was unfocused, still wearing an expression of surprise at Kyllian’s timely arrival. She slid around to his side and pulled the ropes of hair away from his neck. Leaning in close she inspected the small tattoo there, a circle with four tiny triangles just outside of it; top, bottom, left and right. 

 

“So Aedion told you about these?” Aedion looked to the heavens, sending a prayer to the gods who had so neglected them. They ignored his pleas to strike down Morath’s armies, but maybe they’d smite him here and now so this conversation wouldn’t go any farther. 

 

Lysandra, devilishly wicked, would wheedle any information about Aedion from the other male. Kyllian, for his part, was without shame and would share whatever was asked of him.

 

Kyllian, to Aedion’s horror, continued. “Did he also tell you about how he used to-” 

 

“Okay that’s enough. Kyllian, leave. Lysandra, leave or stay but wherever you go please don’t talk to Kyllian.” 

 

Kyllian laughed, low and wild, the same laugh that used to send fire through Aedion’s blood. “All right Ashryver, I won’t embarrass you. For now.” He accented his threat with a wink and a grin before spinning on his heel, making a quick exit. It’s a good thing, too, because Aedion was close to cuffing his ear just to get him to shut his damned mouth. 

 

Lysandra’s gaze slid between Aedion and the still-swaying tent flap with all the delight of a child at a fair, just told they could get a spun sugar treat. “I understand why you liked him.” 

 

Aedion sent her a flat look, to which she shrugged. “I can see how you two worked together as a couple. He’d mock you, tease you. Because you’re a temperamental fae bastard you’d get pissed.” Her words were softened with the fond look she shot him. “And then you’d both fight, without ill intent, until the tension was too much. Then you’d fuck, and it’s back to square one.” Lysandra’s tone, while blunt as ever, held no malice or jealousy or any other negative feeling, only amusement. 

 

Aedion heaved a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “That was...accurate. Maybe less primal than you made it sound, though. We  _ did  _ have heart-to-heart moments.”

 

Lysandra gave him a long, considering look. “I’m good at reading people but the one thing I can’t figure out- how we would work together.” 

 

Aedion’s gaze shot to hers and he smiled softly. “Would you do me the honor of learning that, together, Lady?”

 

Lysandra pretended to consider, looking down her nose with a haughty expression. “I suppose I will, General.” Her pretend-conceited expression dissolved into a smile. 

 

Aedion opened his arms for a hug, which Lysandra ignored. She instead stood on her toes, reaching up with her hands to pull him down to her height. Just before their lips met she paused. “Thank you for that respect Aedion, but you can kiss me. Always you.” 

 

“But I’ll still always ask beforehand,” he replied midly. “Lys, can I-”

 

The Lady of Caraverre simply smiled and leaned in, cutting off his words with a kiss. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Kyllian isn't white, try and convince me otherwise. Oh wait, you can't, there's literally nothing saying otherwise.
> 
> Also this was saved in my google drive as "Ooh wow I’m writing a tog fic that’s Aedion-centric, someone alert the fucking media" which is a mood if i do say so myself.


End file.
